Leather Stethoscope
by Tattooed-On-My-Memory
Summary: Dominatrix!Chase. When Chase's presence at the hospital is required before he has time to change... MM references


Disclaimer: I own none of these characters or concepts or anything! Everyone mentioned in this is fictitious and any resemblance to peoples living or dead is purely co-incidental, and all that jazz. So please don't sue me!

Not: I did write this a little while ago, and it's posted on the House/Chase LJ community already, under the username 'The Monk'… Just so you know.

Leather Stethoscope.

The thick, heavy scent of blood, sweat and leather permeated the air as the piercing crack of a whip sliced through the near-silence of the darkened room, followed by a sharp intake of breath and shuddering gasps of pleasurable pain. Somewhere over the other side of the room a pager went off, causing the rooms occupants to cease in their activities. Swiftly collecting the beeping device the leather-clad blond turned to face the smaller man.

"What was that?" the brunette inquired dazedly, lazily glancing up to meet blue eyes.

The sound of leather creaking and chains rattling could be heard as the blonde straddled the man, releasing him from his chains, and the Australian accent drawled, "The bell," so close to his ear it made him shudder.

"The… bell?" he questioned, his mind clouding into a haze from the contact.

"Class dismissed," the blond threw over his shoulder as he swung his coat on with perfect ease and sauntered out of the dark room into the buzz of energy and light of the party outside.

As he neared the door to his apartment, he was stopped by the body of his co-worker pacing the hallway in front of his door.

"Chase!" she exclaimed, turning to face him, "You're needed at the hospital; we've been trying to call you for half an hour now!"

Pulling the coat tighter around himself, he attempted to sidestep Cameron, "Yeah, I've just gotta get changed first, okay?" moving forward to unlock the door.

"There's no time! And I doubt the patient will be overly concerned with what you're wearing!"

Grabbing him by the arm she hurried back down the stairs to her car, a reluctant Chase in tow.

After a fifteen minute car trip in awkward silence, with Chase trying not to move as that would result in drawing attention to his leather attire, and Cameron stealing questioning glances at him every few minutes wondering why he was sitting so rigidly, they reached the car park and headed in towards the locker rooms.

Slipping gracefully into her own lab coat, Cameron stole a glance at Chase who appeared to be attempting to pull his lab coat on over his thick, black coat and failing; it was far too bulky. Grumbling, he rummaged through the contents of his locker until he found a slightly crumpled white button-down shirt, which he proceeded to slip up under the hem of his coat and somehow twist himself into and button up. From there he let his thick coat slip down to his waist and pulled on his white lab coat before unbuttoning the rest of his other coat.

Quirking an eyebrow at this strange activity, Cameron did a quick double-take as she noticed his tight leather pants, and chunky leather boots which could not be hidden by the thigh-length white lab coat Chase had struggled into moments earlier.

Catching her expression, Chase blushed and quickly turned away. Gathering his thoughts, he turned back to face Cameron, and in the most calm voice he could muster, asked, "Where's the patient?" in unison with Cameron's, "What are you _wearing_?"

There was an awkward silence which lasted a few moments. As Chase refused to answer her question, and there was a patient that needed immediate medical attention, Cameron quickly caved and replied, "Room 205, but we're to go to the common room first."

As they headed out into the hall, Chase allowed his blonde hair to fall across his face, blocking from his view the numerous odd looks, and smirking grins his pants attracted. Chase was filled with relief at finally approaching the common room; glad to be out of the halls and away from all those stares, and hopeful that the team would be too busy concentrating on the case at hand to notice his clothing. He shuffled in the door after Cameron, walking quickly over to his chair and sitting himself down.

The conversation they'd walked in one ceased almost immediately, and the two pairs of eyes flicked from Cameron to Chase, half smirks already making themselves known on the faces of House and Foreman.

"Trick or treat," called Foreman laughingly, "You're a little late for Halloween, aren't you?"

"Easy there, Foreman, kitty's got claws," House replied from his position near the white-board, before turning his attention to Chase, "While your need to dress to impress is admirable, there _is_ a patient here who's dying," he remarked casually, "Although I commend your ability to show off just how tight your ass is in leather, Dr. Chase."

"Glad I could oblige," muttered Chase dangerously, sinking further down into his chair.

"Could we focus on the patient? What's his diagnosis?" Cameron's voice rang to save Chase from more snide remarks, at least for the moment.

"While you were out fetching Princess," replied House, briefly motioning towards Chase at the word 'Princess', "we performed a lumbar puncture and Foreman and I have concluded that our patient has meningitis. You see, the idiot ate an uncooked hotdog which released the bacteria listeria monocytogenes into his system. And this caused…"

"-Meningitis," nodded Cameron, "Okay, so he's already on corticosteroids to reduce the inflammation?" Seeing House's obvious eye-roll she continued on, "Chase and I will administer the antibiotics."

Sending Chase a look which clearly told him to follow, Cameron walked out into the hall as Chase rose to follow her. A cat call followed him as he left, but he didn't risk a glance behind him, resolutely walking out as calmly and casually as possible.

Once in the privacy of the hospital room, Cameron began hooking up the IV bag as Chase watched on silently beside her.

Unable to remain as silent as the man beside her, she burst out quickly, "Are you gay?"

Chase visibly jumped at that; whether it was from the question itself or the sudden break of their silence, she couldn't tell. It was probably a good thing that she was the one connecting the drip, though.

Finding his voice again, Chase whispered, "I'm not _gay_."

"Oh, sorry, the- the leather pants and all… I…" stuttered Cameron, the red tinge of a blush spreading across her features.

"I was at a… party," he responded, hoping that this small truth would prevent Cameron prying any deeper.

"You look like something out of Rocky Horror…"

Chase offered a small smile and motioned towards the patient, "He doing alright?"

Looking down towards the boy she nodded, "oh, yeah, he's, uhm, he's doing okay," she paused for a moment before curiosity once again got the better of her, "What sort of party was it, then?"

"Could you just drop it!" snapped Chase, growing annoyed with her questioning, doubled by the embarrassment of earlier.

"Fine, but only because I know House won't," she answered.

"Yes, because humiliating me more than I already am now just isn't enough," he muttered glumly.

Cameron reached over and gave his shoulder a sympathetic pat, quickly pulling away as she received a withering glare from Chase as they left the patient's room and headed back to the common room.

As they approached the room, House opened the door of his office, "Dr. Chase, I'd like a word with you in my office, if you're not too busy" before closing it again, leaving Cameron to form a stifled giggle while quickly collecting some files and leaving for the night, as Foreman had done some time ago, while Chase grumbled quietly to himself and headed over to House's office.

"You wanted to see me," he stated, rather than asked, as he stepped through the doorway and closed the door behind him.

"Yes, I suppose I did, since I don't think I got quite enough of your ass earlier," was House's response.

"Can we stop talking about my arse, please?" Chase was steadily growing annoyed again.

"Certainly, Dr. Chase, now let's discuss tonight's attire…"

Groaning and letting his head fall to look at the floor, Chase waited for the impending assault of questions and snarky remarks he'd wanted desperately to avoid.

"So, why are we suddenly interested in playing dress-ups, Doctor Chase?" queried House," Cuddy's idea to 'spice up' the working environment?"

Chase didn't reply, still standing awkwardly by the door; possibly debating whether or not he should just turn and flee. Sighing he countered, "If you don't mind, Dr House, I'd prefer my personal life stays as it should be: personal."

"Well, maybe it would if you didn't combine your personal life with your work life," House pointed out, gesturing towards the younger doctor's clothing with and airy wave of his hand.

"Well that's not exactly _my_ fault is it? If you hadn't paged me in the middle of my jo- … _party_ then I wouldn't have shown up wearing this!" Stopping to try and calm himself back down again, Chase blushed at his own slip of tongue, before sharply turning and running down the empty corridor, back to the comfort of his own apartment.

Glancing down to the freshly torn piece of paper in his hand, Chase double-checked the address before waking up to the door of his new client's apartment and knocking. Fumbling could be heard through the door as the inhabitant hurried to unlock the door, letting it slam open spectacularly.

"I KNEW it!" came the gleeful cry of House, while Chase stared; dumbfounded and blushing, mouth agape on his boss' doorstep.


End file.
